


Carved too Deep

by tommiwithaquill



Category: How to Get Away with Murder
Genre: Past Abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-24
Updated: 2015-02-24
Packaged: 2018-03-14 20:23:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,328
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3424367
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tommiwithaquill/pseuds/tommiwithaquill
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Oliver always makes comments about himself not being attractive enough, or good enough. Connor wants to know why, and he wants to be the one to help Oliver see how truly remarkable he is - but can he be that person? Coliver angsting up ahead.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Carved too Deep

**Author's Note:**

> This plot absolutely would not leave me alone at 3am after HTGAWM aired the other night. It's been forming for a while given one hell of a muse (AKA Oliver Hampton), but it wouldn't be contained any longer. So here it is, after some much needed encouragement from my friend Jess. Thanks bb, you don't know how much your words and encouragement meant to me.

It’s the little comments, tossed out so easily that there’s no way Oliver hasn’t accepted them as the complete truth. They aren’t things he’s saying to fish for compliments. Oliver doesn’t do that. They aren’t thoughts that slip into his head during down times. They are real and they’re always there. Connor hasn’t addressed them yet. He hasn’t known how - but he’s laying in his boyfriend’s bed, and Oliver makes another one as he’s putting on the sweats he usually wears. 

“Why do you do that?” Connor can’t help but ask, sitting up with a furrowed brow, the corners of his lips working in agitation. 

“Do what?” 

“Say things like that. About how...unattractive you are. Which you aren’t, by the way. But you keep saying things like that.” 

Oliver looks confused for a moment, like a lost fawn. “I don’t...I’m not sure I understand what you’re talking about. What did I say?” Connor believes he doesn’t remember, because Oliver does that. They spill out of Oliver so freely, and it hurts Connor to even imagine who taught him that behavior. Because it’s learned. It’s not just low self-esteem. There’s no way that’s all it is, and Connor wants to get rid of it. Help his sweet, caring, gentle boyfriend unlearn those horrible, untrue words.

“You said you they probably won’t like you. That you aren’t good enough for me? That they’ll probably be surprised I’m with someone like you. What does that even mean? Like you? Oliver you say stuff like that all the time.” Oliver sits down beside Connor, legs crossed and clearly listening even though he won’t meet Connor’s eyes. “Why? Why do you do that?” 

“We’re dating now,” is his only response. Connor is so confused he can’t respond himself. Luckily he doesn’t have to because Oliver picks up without any prompting. “So you can’t get mad at me.” When Oliver looks at him it’s with fear and worry. 

He’s kept something a secret. Connor knows that look. The guilt behind it. He’s given Oliver that look on multiple occasions already. It’s hard to imagine that the man before him has hidden anything away. Oliver is so much more trusting and open with things, even when he doesn’t mean to be. “I won’t.” Connor can’t be completely sure - but can what Oliver’s about to say really be worse than being an accomplice to murder? To lying about a drug problem, or cheating? It’s not possible for Oliver to have done anything as horrible as that. 

“I uhm.” Oliver needs a minute to gather himself. Connor can understand that. It’s rare for the other man to collect his thoughts before he spills them. Usually it all gushes out like Oliver can’t possibly keep it contained. The silence that stretches worries him, because it means Oliver has a lot to say - and he wants it to be said well. He wants to have control over how he reveals this. Whatever _this_ is.

“I was.” Oliver breathes and shuts his eyes, and Connor can see his hands shaking. He doesn’t know what to say. He can’t reassure Oliver for something when it’s only going through his mind. Can he? Maybe he can. His boyfriend is scared about something. He needs to hear that it will be okay - but Connor doesn’t want to break a promise. Not another one. What if it isn’t okay? It’s better if Connor says nothing, that way he won’t be lying. Oliver, strong as he always is, pushes forward without Connor’s help. 

“I was engaged once.” The words are weak but it sounds like a shout in Connor’s ears. Engaged. Oliver was engaged. Oliver was engaged? Connor doesn’t realize that he isn’t breathing properly and he hates how Oliver is suddenly cupping the sides of his face, looking at him with deep concern. This man is trying to tell him something, and Connor needs the whole story before he starts freaking out. Making things up. 

“Hey.” Oliver’s voice breaks through just enough. “Let me finish. Okay? Breathe.” Oliver is so calm and controlled. How can he be like that? Shouldn’t he be freaking out? He’s the one dropping a bomb, he’s the one with a hidden story that has clearly been eating him alive. Oliver’s hands are still shaking, they aren’t calm and grounding like they were when he found Connor gasping at his threshold. Connor should be the one offering comfort. Why is it Oliver? Why is it always Oliver? 

“I was young, and stupid. And.” Oliver rolls his eyes. “Desperate to be loved.” He shakes his head and looks away from Connor again, hands slipping to his shoulders instead. Still so open. Not closing himself off or wrapping his arms around his middle like Connor does. “And it doesn’t matter anymore.” Except it does. It has to matter, or Oliver wouldn’t be taking in air so shallowly. He would’t be shaking and rubbing at the finger where a ring could have been. Belonged on. Oliver was made to, no - meant to wear a ring. 

“Anyway. It. He...wasn’t healthy.” Was he sick? Did Oliver lose a loved one to disease? “Are you still with me? Connor?” There were those hands again, back to his face. Holding him and bringing him back. “Just listen. Focus on what I’m saying...I don’t want you getting ideas.” Ollie’s eyes wrinkled just a bit. How was he smiling at a time like this? Was it for Connor? It had to be for him. This was supposed to be about Oliver, but the other man kept checking on him. Connor couldn’t help but be completely amazed by how selfless Oliver was. He deserved total attention, not speculation. 

“Keep going.” How reassuring was that? Connor hates himself for saying that instead of something more soothing. More supportive. But it seems like Oliver understands even with the poor delivery, because he finally starts pulling the knots from his tangled story. Letting the words free like a breath he’s been holding for too many years. Waiting for the right person to share it with. Waiting for Connor.

“His name doesn’t matter. He. Well. I guess he does matter a little bit, because things happen and you’re supposed to learn and grow from them - and I did! I did. I...I’m proud of myself, actually.” Oliver looked so determined to say that. “I’ve always been like this. Kind of. It’s just who I am. I’m more...I dunno. It’s like. I’m hard on myself and have a lot of expectations for myself, Con. I’ve been that way since I was little. I compare myself to everyone and I know that isn’t fair, but it’s something I’ve done and learned to live with. It’s a part of me.” He lets out a rush of breath and starts again.

“But that man? He played on that. He twisted it and manipulated me and he was so good at it that I didn’t even know until I was an engaged Freshman in college. Because I was so happy somebody loved me, and wanted to truly be with me. I wasn’t having to fight and vie for his attention like I had to with my parents...” Another breath and Oliver pulls his hands back to himself, trying to get himself back on track. 

“That’s why I make those comments, I think. It’s been a long time. Since I was with him, but we were together and I loved him long enough to really have to work on how...messed up he made me. I’ve worked really hard on it, and I was even uh.” Oliver laughs like he thinks he’s pathetic. “I was seeing a therapist for a while. I still do. That’s okay though. It’s not shameful to need some help. I still go once a month, actually. But. I’ve. I’ve done a lot of work on myself.” The nod he gives is resolute, like he’s telling himself as much as is Connor. “I don’t let people push me around. Not as much, anyway. And I mean. Like with you...that time. When I kicked you out? Sometimes I react a little too coldly, and I hate it but...it keeps me safe. It keeps my heart safe. It gets the job done, and I’m still learning how to do it without being quite so drastic - but it’s what I needed to do at the time. Also why I haven’t apologized for it. Even though I did feel kind of awful.” Oliver’s rambling. 

Connor gets it though. Or he thinks he does. There aren’t a lot of details laid out before him, but he’s starting to understand. Oliver had loved someone very deeply, or had thought he did. That person had turned around and hurt him. Used his good will and kindness against him, used it as a way to emotionally manipulate him. “Can you...elaborate? Maybe? It’s okay if you can’t.” Connor is quick to say that. He wants to be there for Oliver, be there for him like the other man always is for him. He steels himself and touches at Oliver just below the ear. “I. I really appreciate you telling me all of this, but maybe slow down a little bit?” 

“Ugh.” Oliver groans and rolls his eyes. “I knew it. I got carried away again. I do that. Stupid.” 

“It’s not.” Connor cuts him off quickly, eyes flashing just a little bit. He’s not going to let that keep happening. “It’s not stupid. It’s a lot to say, that’s all. And...you’re ashamed. You don’t need to be, you know. I mean. You’re talking to me.” Connor tries to make a light joke of it, gesturing at himself like he’s the one who should be ashamed - not Oliver. Never Oliver. Who is staring at him with that look in his eyes. Like Connor has personally handed him the whole galaxy. Connor never believes that look is for him, but it is. He doesn’t deserve that look. 

Oliver finally starts again, trying to clarify. “I really shouldn’t have fallen for his crap. And...I mean. Nobody really believes it when a man says he’s being...” He bites down on his lip hard and actually looks like he might start crying, but it’s gone. Wiped away with a pass of his fingers. “Anyway. He wasn’t a nice person, Connor, and for someone who’s already pretty low on the whole self-esteem train? It’s easier for people like him to...really drill it in hard how. How stupid and pathetic you are, and how lame your job is, and how unattractive you are. And after years of it you don’t really think any differently of yourself. You accept it as true. I thought I was getting better at being nicer to myself and...I guess that’s just something that’s sticked. And it’s so not...a hot trait to have. Dammit.” 

“I don’t think it makes you any less of a person.” Connor finally steps up fully. “Oliver. Listen. I like you. I love you.” It’s the first time he’s said it and he doesn’t miss the shock that spreads into a smile so big and bright that it knocks Connor’s breath away. He has to stop Oliver from kissing him, even though he knows it would have blown him away. Connor has to say what’s on his mind first, before he chickens out. “I love you.” He repeats. “And I kind of actually think you’re the hottest guy in the world. But that shouldn’t even matter, that shouldn’t be what makes you feel like you are. I know you’re working hard to teach yourself that, but I want you to know it’s true anyway. You’re so fucking hot, and I want to be with you. Not just for the sex. Okay?” 

Is that enough? Connor knows it’s not. 

“I mean. At first when I saw you? Yeah. You were...kind of easy to pick off from the group, I guess. Nice guy, cute, kind of hanging in the back and letting his friends talk. I knew it would be easy to get you away for a drink. But. That’s not...that’s not why I came back. I didn’t plan on coming back, and I’m sure you knew that. But I came back for you. I was. I am. Serious about you. You’ve made me. You’ve made me want that. A boyfriend to be there for and take care of and everything.” Connor rubs at the back of his neck and pulls the blanket up around himself, nose twitching. “You’re not stupid. Or easy. Or any of that...negative stuff that you think you are.” 

Oliver is smiling at him but Connor doesn’t let him go in for the kiss. Not yet. “No no no. Keep going. Keep talking. We never do this, especially for you. I want to know everything you’re comfortable sharing with me. Anything that you think might have made you feel like this. Like you’re less than you are. I want to know so I can squash everyone who played a part of it. Even past-Connor.” 

Oliver laughs, and it’s so good to hear that sound. He backs off and folds his hands in his lap. “Okay. Okay...you know I hate this though. This whole. Making me in the center of attention thing.” 

“I know. But...I mean. You deserve to be the center of attention sometimes. Maybe it just hasn’t been a good experience before, but it will be now. And it’s good to kind of share this stuff... right?” Connor asks. He doesn’t know. “You’re the one who should know.” 

“You’re really good at this.” Oliver blurts. “At...healthy relationship stuff? I know you don’t think you are, or maybe it’s just because you aren’t used to it? But. You’re so...I dunno. Nice. To me. You take really good care of me. I mean, remember that time I was drunk? When I met your friends? You probably had the easiest chance at sex you could have had, and you didn’t take it. Because I was drunk. That’s...amazing. Connor. And trying to take me to dinner but appreciating me wanting to stay in instead of throwing a fit about ruined plans? Giving me a gift, re-gift or not? And now this. Making me talk but not forcing me to. Trying to get information so you can...make me feel safer? And telling me you love me. Which I’m not forgetting - you’re stuck with it now.” Oliver grins at him playfully. 

“I thought this was supposed to be about you.” Connor reminds gently. “Stop avoiding the subject...tell me more about this idiot. Or whatever else you want to tell me about. You’ll never have to again, once I know the whole thing. So.” Connor pops his lips at Oliver as if that makes his point for him. 

“Okay, okay. Sorry.” Oliver holds up his hands for a second and lets them fall back into the fold of his knees. “So I was with...him. Which kind of messed me up. But I was also with him because...ugh. Because he was the first man to kind of. Show me any...interest. I was a junior in high school when we met. Still very much in the closet when it came to school and family. But. I knew. I was ashamed, and scared, but I was also curious and I...couldn’t deny it. And even after I got with him I was still so ashamed of being gay. I hated it. I hated myself for it. I kind of did a lot drinking, when I could. To try and get up the courage to do anything? He was one of the people I ended up with it because of it. It took a me a long time to come out, actually. Right before I left for college. I had already been under his thumb for two years by that point.” Oliver shrugs. “Remember the book I tried to get you to read? The Velvet Rage? It’s about things like this. Things gay men do...and did, because of the inherent shame we feel...that we’re made to feel? And my parents probably knew but the were always quiet about it. Ignored it or...or didn’t mention it. And they brushed it off when I finally told them. Introduced him to them.” Oliver shrugged. “Just another thing I had done wrong. They had other kids to worry about. More successful children who were going to give them grandkids. So. I sought even more solace in him and pulled away from them.”

“Things fell through with him while I was in college, and I was on my own. I didn’t have a lot of real friends. Just the kind that hung around because I was smart and willing to share notes. But I...I figured it out. It took an engagement and a lot of attachment and love but I...he started. Hitting me. That year. Not a lot but enough and I really...I really knew. I knew what was going to happen. If I stayed with him. If I kept making excuses for the little jibes and comments he made. The things he said to scare me into staying with him, the weaknesses he played on. Like telling me I would never be loved. I read, and researched, and I realized. And I got myself out - and it was messy. But.” Oliver looks at Connor, and he looks so tired. Connor wants to hold him but he settles for grabbing Ollie’s hand instead. 

“And that’s it. That’s...kind of the whole story. And probably why I still make those comments.” Connor hates that he was right. That a sweet, naive, trusting young Oliver had practically been trained to think that way about himself for so many reasons, with not enough people to tell him the truth. Connor would make up for all of that lost time. For all of them. 

“Well. We’re going to put a stop to those.” Connor grins at him. “I don’t want to...I don’t want to change you, or anything. So don’t. Don’t try and do stuff for me. I mean. I know you aren’t, which is good. But I don’t want to come in and kind of mess all of that hard work up. I want to do what I can to support it. You know? Support you. But I don’t want to come off as patronizing or anything...just. It’s not up to me to say what you can and can’t do. But you don’t have to feel afraid to tell me off, or take control of things, or...you know. Whatever it is you have to do. Just. Do you want you need to do. Do your thing. What makes you feel comfortable.” Connor leans in close to him, so their noses brush.

“I am, however. Going to make sure I tell you how amazing you are. Every day. In hopes that you’ll do the same thing for yourself. Because you are, Oliver. You’re a fantastic person. Very much worth loving. I mean, I’m lucky to get the chance to love you. No, hush.” Connor rubs a thumb across Oliver’s parted lips. “That’s the truth. I’m so lucky that you gave me another chance, and I know that. And I like that you don’t just roll over and take my shit. I don’t want that to change.” Connor finally slots their lips together but he keeps it tender and passionate. Aiming to show Oliver just how much he loves him without making it sexual. Because Oliver is so much more than sex.

“I want to take care of you. I never want you to have reason to doubt yourself, or be afraid to approach me with a problem. I want your surprise kisses and bright smiles. I want your doofy jokes, and your weird movie choices. I want you. I don’t want you to feel like you have to hold back with me. And I definitely don’t want you to feel like you don’t deserve me, or something. Because I get to choose who I want in my life, and all of those guys out there that you think are hotter than you? They have nothing. They mean nothing to me. Because you’re so much more than them, Oliver. You’re more than attraction and sleazy fucks in a backroom. You’re my boyfriend. You’re the man I fell in love with. You’re the guy I can trust. And love is more than that, and you’re the most attractive man I’ve ever come across in my whole life, anyway. And that...love? It comes with more than looks. It’s your heart, and your compassion, God your compassion. And don’t get me started on your patience. Everything that makes up your entire person is what I want. Screw those other guys, and fuck whatever other people have to say about us. What they think doesn’t matter. Hell, what I think doesn’t matter, really. What matters is you. Your thoughts, and your feelings. Those are the most important thing. I know you’ll probably keep putting everyone else before yourself. But you should be a little selfish sometimes.” Connor grins at him. 

“I know someone who can teach you how to be more selfish.” Connor leans in for another kiss, and can feel Oliver’s neck heat up under his fingertips when he licks in behind the other man’s teeth. Just as Oliver starts to kiss back, Connor pulls away. He wipes at the tracks of tears that Oliver hasn’t even noticed on his own cheeks, and kisses under each eye. 

“Why do I have a feeling you’re talking about yourself,” Oliver finally speaks. Suspicious and a little playful. 

“Because you know me too well.” Connor flops back down onto his back, then, and stares up at the ceiling for a moment. He feels the bed shifting as Oliver finally wiggles himself in under the covers, and it isn’t long before the other man plasters himself against Connor’s side, back to the other man as he not-so-subtly grabs for Connor’s hand, trying to drag Connor’s limb over him. 

“Do you want something?” Connor teases. He doesn’t want to press Oliver for more. It’s obvious that the other man is tired - and what more is there to be said? Actions are louder than words, and Oliver has decided to trust him with far more than Connor has any right to. Connor wraps himself neatly around Oliver, and kisses at his neck. “I love you,” he whispers into Oliver’s hair. “I really do. I way more than like you,” he teases, the words a secret joke between them. “Times a million.” 

“Stop being cheesy and go to sleep,” Oliver groans in his playful way. Connor feels it when Oliver’s chest hitches beneath his hand, though. He feels Oliver start to tremble because he’s trying to keep his crying quiet, and it makes Connor want to cry himself. Someone like Oliver never deserves to feel like this. To feel like they have to cry themselves to sleep alone at night. He’s never going to make Oliver feel like the other people in his life have. He’s never going to let him cry all alone, or take on everyone’s burden without letting his own down. Connor vows to take care of him and really give him the love he’s been starved for. 

Except he can’t make all of those promises - can he? Not out loud. Not when he knows just how close all of this is to shattering around them. He hates that he can’t actually make those promises with any truth behind them. Because the truth is that their new relationship has been built up on rocky foundation, with no support beams to hold them. The floor is going to crumble beneath them. already cracked. 

And Oliver shouldn’t trust him. Shouldn’t keep him in his life.

It’s wrong, and it’s selfish of Connor to keep holding this precious man close to his chest. He knows that. He knows. He’s not going to be the one to save Oliver, or tell him he loves him every day. He’s not going to be the one who helps Oliver feel better and more sure of himself. After everything that Oliver has shared with him. Connor knows that he should push the other away instead of making him feel safe and loved. He should leave Oliver to find it somewhere else. Because Connor knows that Oliver could. Would. If he just let him loose before the other man fell in too deep. He also knows that Oliver would never believe that, and that despite his instincts screaming at him to get away from Connor - Oliver has let Connor stay. Connor doesn’t want to become another notch in a life so filled with pain. A scar in a man who somehow, remarkably, has kept going and going with such a positive attitude. Who isn’t bitter and jaded, but tender and loving. 

But it’s too late. He’s carved too deep, and that’s what he’s bound to be. Another jagged rip in Oliver’s heart. They’re going to be caught, and if they’re not? How long will it be until he snaps and admits to everything himself? There’s no way Oliver will stay with him when the mortar cracks. And even if Oliver does stay, he’ll just be dragged back down into a pain and fear far worse than the kind that comes from a broken heart. The man Oliver loves helped burn a man’s body, and throw the life away in trash bags. It’s too late.

It’s too late, and Connor doesn’t know how, no - doesn’t have the _strength_ to fix it. So he holds Oliver close and tries to ignore the tears slipping down his own cheeks as the man he loves finally finds his peace in the arms of a killer.


End file.
